Home
by FairyElle
Summary: Stanford AU. Dean gets a phone call in the middle of the night from his brother. Can he make it in time? Limp!Sam and Protective!Dean
1. Reaching Out

**HOME**

_1. Reaching out_

The darkness clinging to every night was almost taunting, like a creature preparing itself for an attack. But Dean knew better. It was just a painful reminder that he was alone, darkness was just a part of it.

Sometimes dreams were worse than dealing with the worst possible supernatural occurrences. There was no control, only a dark power gripping from within reaching for his fear.

When he was in control there was nothing that could bring out fear in him, but sometimes while hunting there was a darkened dread of something else. The thought of not being there when it mattered, the creeping fear for the people he was prepared to do anything for.

Hunting had turned into something else, something that had to be done – as if something was missing. Ever since Sam left for Stanford, everything seemed to have crashed. His dad worked on his own, unless he was in need of Dean's help. Dean, himself, had learned how to work on his own too. It wasn't a difficulty, he knew how to do it, what needed to be done – and that was that. But no hunt could stop him from driving to Stanford every now and then, just like his dad. To make sure Sam was alright, that he was safe. Really, it was all that mattered.

_Sam._

Dean had always tried to hold his family together, after everything, or at least that was what he thought he'd done. Now, it turned out that Sam had in fact been the one gluing all the pieces together. Holding them together. Without Sam, their family would fall into pieces.

Anger was never a part of the equation, it had been at first when he realized just how determined Sam was. A part of Dean just wanted him to be happy, but most of all it was the stark fear that he wouldn't be there to protect him like he had always been.

They had been trained by their dad, learned how to defend themselves not just against a supernatural attack but any attack. Sam could take care of himself, but Dean had always had something like an inborn protective instinct when it came to his little brother.

It was the phone.

The sound reached him through the intensity of his dream, cutting through his sleep. Rubbing his eyes with one hand, eyes adjusting to the dark, he reached for his phone. Before he got to it, his gaze found the alarm clock. He could easily make out the numbers glowing in the dark, 3 AM.

Who the hell would call him at two? Dean knew his dad had just got back from his latest hunt, he had talked to him earlier after all, so it couldn't be him.

"Hello," he grunted.

"Dean..."

Sam's voice was breathless, turning into almost just a whisper. There was a desperation there, something that made his protective big brother instincts spring into full action. Hearing his voice, almost as if in pain didn't do anything to lessen his worries.

Something was wrong, it didn't take a genius to figure that out.

"Sammy?" Dean strained to hear what he was saying. "What's wrong?" By the sound of it, Sam sounded lost, like he didn't know where to go. Much like the way he had been standing next to his bed as a six year old, asking him to make the monsters go away.

"I... I didn't know who else to call."

An icy chill of panic clenched itself around Dean's gut, twisting and drawing out cold fear. Just the thought of his baby brother lying somewhere; cold, alone and scared was almost killing him. "It's okay."

Dean wanted to know what could possibly have made his brother so upset. "What happened, Sam?" He was already scrambling out of bed, all thought of sleep long forgotten.

Silence filled the other line.

A moment later, Sam's gasping vibrated in his ear. "Sammy?" he pressed. "Are you okay?"

"Can you just g-get here?" Sam asked, in a voice that tugged at Dean's heartstrings. Of course he would get there. He'd do whatever his baby brother asked him to, but he also needed to know what had caused him this amount of distress. _Or who. _

"Alright, I don't know what is going on. But I will drive there, okay?" Dean was moving, worming his way into his jeans, grabbing his jacket. "You'll have to give me the directions."

Sam told him the fastest way to get there in a rush, making the words come out blurry. "Thanks."

"You better tell me what the hell is going on when I get there." He paused, hands searching for his car keys. "You hear me, Sammy?"

"Maybe," Sam said, and Dean didn't fail to notice the relief in his brother's voice. It wouldn't have bothered him at any other time. But it sure as hell did now.

"I don't do maybes man, you're telling me."

"Just get here, Dean."

The call was cut.

"Sam?" Dean yelled into the phone. "Sammy!" He removed the phone from his ear, looking at it.

"Damn it!"

-x-

_Two hours earlier_

"Like you got nothing better to do?" Mike arched an eyebrow. "Dude, this is the grand opening. We can't just..."

"Miss it..." Sam Winchester finished for him. "I heard you before, man." He looked up from the text book he was determined to stay focused on.

"Sam, you ace like everything."

"That's not why." Sam sighed, closing his book. "Okay, where is this thing? Is it even remotely close?" A shadow of doubt crossed his face, but it passed by in a second.

Studying wasn't the real reason he wasn't hell bent on going to the opening of the newest bar where Mike knew the bartender. It had nothing to do with acing a test, but it had everything to do with loosing control. Getting drunk meant loosing control, it meant dropping his guard.

It was almost exactly one year since he had left his family, cutting himself off from hunting. Stanford was both nothing and everything he thought it would be. There were the classes, the people he met, everything was just shining... normal. It was what he wanted, to get away from the supernatural, to surround himself in a safe normal world.

And yet, Sam got the feeling like he didn't really fit in there. Sometimes he would feel as if he was putting on someone else's smile, laughing at all the right jokes – never letting his guard down. Because if he did, everyone would know it was fake. They would see the kind of freak he really was. Pretending to be the person everyone expected him to be.

There wasn't anybody to talk to, well not really. Something was just missing. There were times when he was among other people, and he'd never felt so alone. Like he was disappearing even though he was standing right there. It was those moments that made him wonder if he'd done the right thing, leaving behind his family in the hope of finding something that didn't have anything to do with supernatural occurrences or weirdness.

Sam would sometimes let his mind wander to where his dad and brother were. There had even been moments where Sam had considered going back, even if just to see them. At first nothing had been easy and he'd wanted to tell Dean that he couldn't do it anymore. But he didn't, he never asked him to come and get him, even if sometimes it was exactly what he wanted.

He tried to remember that last conversation he'd had with them, that day when he'd left for Stanford. But when it came down to it he would push all those memories away. Sam didn't want to remember because it hurt more than pretending to be something he knew he wasn't.

Forty minutes later they entered the bar. Lights were flashing from the ceiling, almost blinding them. Apparently this bar had turned into some kind of club. The drinks were even glowing in various colors. It was nothing like he'd ever seen.

It was located in the opposite direction of the Stanford campus, slightly out of town. As far as Sam could tell, there was definitely something of a college night going on.

"That girl is totally checking you out." Mike's distant voice broke through Sam's train of thoughts. When his gaze searched the room, swinging to the girl in question, he realized she was naturally beautiful. And she was looking in their direction.

"It's not me she's looking at," Sam said.

"Oh come on, it is too!" Mike glanced at Sam before turning to his drink. "Go over there and ask her for a dance. I'm gonna go out for a breather."

Sam shifted in his bar stool. "Alright."

"I'll be back in a few."

Staring at his friend's retreating back Sam got out of his seat, turning around to look for the girl in the green dress. Either his eyes were betraying him or she had disappeared, when Sam scanned the place he couldn't see her anywhere.

Every thought disappeared when he heard something that sounded like a shout. Maybe it was because he was close to the door, but even through the loud volume of the bar he knew it was coming from Mike.

Without looking back Sam left the now crowded bar, walking towards the source of the sounds he thought he'd heard. Once he stepped out into the cold air, the sounds only grew louder.

A bit further away from where Sam was currently standing, Mike was holding his own – fighting a guy twice his size.

Sam hesitated, contemplating whether he should give him a hand when he noticed he didn't need to. The guy was already on the ground, apparently knocked out and bleeding.

Slowly turning around, Mike faced Sam. "That was fast."

"What the hell was that?"

"This guy," Mike pointed to the guy lying on the ground, "wanted to mug me."

As Sam began to really take in the surroundings for the first time, he realized that it didn't bear any resemblance to any of the places where students usually hung out. Even if it wasn't near the campus area, this looked more like a murky alley that belonged somewhere else.

"Looks like he failed," Sam acknowledged.

Mike smirked. "Yeah." He glanced at Sam. "What happened to that girl?"

Sam thought before he answered. The fact that his dorm mate could fight like that was something of a surprise. "No idea," he answered. "One moment she was there, and then I couldn't see her. But I heard screaming from outside." Sam eyed the guy now lying unconscious on the ground. "But it looks like you've got it covered..."

Before he knew what was happening, Sam felt something connect with his head painfully.

Blinking rapidly from where he was lying, Sam could distinguish three men standing in front of him. But he couldn't see his dorm mate until he stumbled into a standing position. A fourth person came into his line of vision, and it was obvious to him that he had been the one taking Mike down.

_Great._

These people were apparently not your average muggers, which didn't make matters easier. Considering his options, he didn't get very far. It wasn't the fact that he couldn't put up a good fight. He could. It was the fact that he hadn't been needing his fighting skills at Stanford.

But when he felt strong arms grabbing him, holding back his arms, he kicked out his legs. Hard.

"What do you want?" he gritted out.

Another man appeared in front of him, but it was too dark to see his face, but Sam could hear the mocking laughter coming from his mouth.

"Your little friend over there killed my friend," the man behind him told him in a harsh whisper. "Let's just say," Sam doubled over when he felt the punch to his stomach, "this is revenge."

Sam struggled against the crushing grip. "Mike didn't kill anyone. _Your_ little friend mugged him."

"Shut up!"

Sam's eye exploded in pain, as a fist came swinging connecting with his face. He would have fallen down if there wasn't someone holding him up. "He's not dead, alright!" Sam said breathlessly. "Go see for yourself."

A boot was coming for his gut, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. "You got guts, kid." To his associate he muttered, "Go check on him." Through the haze of pain Sam could see that there were a total of four men surrounding him. Mike was still lying on the ground and Sam thought he could see blood coming from his mouth.

"You're going to pay for this..." The man who had disappeared to check on the younger guy returned. Sam tried to read his face for any sign of what was going on. There wasn't anything there.

He'd seen it with his own eyes, the guy had just been unconscious. If anything it looked as if someone had done more damage to his dorm mate than he'd done to the guy that had tried mugging him.

Sam continued to struggle against the viselike grip, kicking his legs out, but it was all for nothing. "I haven't done anything. Mike didn't kill your friend." It felt like a mantra, something he had trying to get across, even though he knew it would never work.

"You're going to pay for what you did," was all the man in front of him said. His voice was bitter, and Sam knew he would never be able to talk his way out of this mess.

They were dragging him somewhere, off his feet, but Sam couldn't make out where they were. The vision on his right eye was returning but slowly.

The first thing he noticed was that Mike was no longer in his line of vision, the second thing was that the little alcohol he had poured into his body had weakened his agility.

The men were advancing on him now, and the next thing Sam could see through his blurry vision was a flurry of fists connecting painfully with his skin. It felt as if his skin was being pierced through with invisible fire, burning his skin.

"Don't do anything stupid, kid," the man in the center sneered, as Sam tried to kick his leg harder trying to break free. The man wore a ski mask, which was weird. It was too dark to see anything anyway, so why bother. _Really._

In the dim street lights he could see the blade of a knife shimmer.

Sam knew Mike hadn't killed anyone, he could feel it. But he couldn't see Mike anymore, he didn't even know whether he was dead or alive. He still couldn't figure out who these people were, it was just his luck that he'd been at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Sam knew that Mike hadn't done anything except warding off a mugging attempt, and yet Sam tried to bite down the scream, when the knife went through his shoulder. It hovered over his stomach before ripping his clothes, layer by layer.

He was going to die, he knew it, and no one would be able to stop it.

The last thing Sam remembered was how the sharp edge pierced his left side, nearly cutting off his breathing. Feeling the wetness soaking his ripped clothes, and hearing the harsh sound of laughter, Sam fell when there was nothing to hold him up anymore.

Then everything turned black.


	2. Wrong Place, Wrong Time

**HOME**

_2. Wrong Place, Wrong Time_

With no cars in sight, darkness swallowed the open road leaving the black Impala stranded. Its lights were the only thing Dean needed to reach his destination.

The dim yellow light, coming from the streetlights on either side of the road didn't provide any help at all. If anyone would have passed through, the only thing that would have been visible was a cloud of black.

Speed had never been a problem, but Dean had learned how to be careful when he had Sam sitting beside him. Nothing mattered now though, nothing but getting to Sam as fast as he possibly could.

"_Just get here, Dean."_

Sam's voice had been screaming in his head ever since the call was cut. Dean's hands tightened, he was gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were turning white.

Ever since Sam had left for Stanford he hadn't been calling very often. But those times he had heard from his little brother, he'd dropped everything to have that precious talk.

Dean very well knew how John had felt about Sam leaving. Dean himself, had at first resented Sam's decision, feeling anger because of it. But in the end of the day the only thing he felt was worry for the fear of something happening when he wasn't there to do what he always did.

_Protect Sam._

It had been his responsibility ever since fire and destruction had come to rip his family apart. When his eyes had locked onto those brown large eyes, looking up at him innocently, he knew. He was going to protect his baby brother until his dying day. It wasn't just his responsibility, or later on an order, it was his job.

In every conversation he'd had with Sam away from home, he had never heard such terror in his voice. Sam had always tried to veil it while talking to Dean, whatever he was afraid of, yet he could always detect it. Dean had learned how to read Sam a long time ago and it had become something like second nature to him. To hear such unveiled terror was something else. Something was horribly wrong, he could tell, but what could have happened he didn't know.

When the call had been cut, it had felt like an icy fist had connected with his gut. It only made matters worse when no one picked up when he desperately tried to reach Sam again. It was the reason for why he pushed the limits of the Impala, trying to shorten the distance.

-x-

The safety of his brother's voice faded away into the night.

Sam couldn't even see his phone anymore, the man standing before him had it in a crushing grip. A moment later he could see his phone getting smashed against the wall he was leaning against. The silvery pieces fell to the ground, broken and crushed. He looked at them, trying to breathe, while his only way of communication was gone. At least he'd managed to call the one person he knew would drive miles to get to where he was.

Realizing the man hadn't left, Sam tried to look up into the cold face, but all he could see was the sneer curling on his lips. There was no one else except this man he'd never seen before. It didn't do anything to lessen the cold feeling lingering in his stomach.

The punch to his face came like a ripping sensation, it didn't hurt as much as his other wounds, but it left him more out of breath than he could ever remember being. The wounds felt raw and uncomfortable, he felt a wetness somewhere around his stomach but he didn't have the strength to do anything about it now.

A memory flashed by, it was blurred around the edges but it was a clear one nonetheless.

_He'd come home from school, his nose bleeding, trying to get past his 18-year-old brother. But Dean never seemed to fail noticing if something was wrong with him._

"_What the hell happened?"_

"_Nothing," Sam mumbled, trying to move past Dean._

"_Nothing? Sam, you wanna call this nothing!?" Dean grabbed his arm, dragging him to the bathroom and forcing him to sit down. _

"_It's none of your business," Sam retorted. "I can take care of myself."_

"_Yeah I can see that," Dean muttered, starting to clean off the blood, taking hold of his face. His words might have seemed harsh, but the actions were gentle. _

"_Who did this to you?"_

_Sam didn't say anything._

"_Sammy? Hmm, who was it?"_

_Sam looked away from Dean penetrating eyes, and stared at the floor._

"_Hey," Dean put his hand against Sam's cheek, making him look into his eyes. _

"_It was no one." Sam muttered. "Forget it, it's not important."_

"_What the hell is going on Sam?"_

_Sam thought for a minute. "You can't tell dad."_

_Dean only raised one eyebrow._

"_I'm serious, you can't!"_

"_You know I won't. Alright? But Sammy, I need to know what happened."_

_Sam didn't look at Dean when he spoke. "I sort of g-got into a fight." When Dean didn't say anything he continued, " He said..." Sam stopped. "Look it doesn't matter, it won't happen again. _

"_What did he say? Sam!"_

_Sam turned to get up. "He said you can't memorize a book without being a geek, and now everyone thinks I'm a geek."_

"_Oh yeah, well who the hell is he?" Noticing how Sam's eyes had turned very bright he added, "Sam, you're not a geek."_

_Sam looked at his brother questioningly._

"_Well you are, but you're my geek," he smirked. "And no one but me is allowed to call you that. Now tell me who he is."_

"_What are you gonna do?"_

_Dean smirked at him. "Talk to him."_

_Sam cracked a smile. "Sure you are."_

"_Yeah well no one touches my little brother," Dean said, ruffling Sam's hair._

The memory seemed to fade away, Sam tried to think about it to stay awake but it didn't seem to be working. It had taken what seemed like an eternity to just open his eyes, and now he felt as if the darkness was taking hold of him once again. But he couldn't close his eyes, not yet. Moving was a difficulty but he was determined to stay awake. He couldn't let go, not until he could see his brother in sight.

-x-

When Dean reached California he very well knew he had broken a few laws to get there, but right now it didn't really matter. Slowing down, he scanned all the buildings, looking for that familiar figure.

Frustration started to take hold when he couldn't detect Sam anywhere. What he could detect was that there wasn't anything fancy about this, give it a few more years and some of those building could fall apart. He was certain he had heard Sam correctly, but the darkness also made it impossible to see. What he couldn't understand was what his little brother would do here, when it smelled trouble, and Sam wasn't someone who wanted trouble.

After several moments of frustration, Dean saw something that made his heart start beating furiously in his chest. By one of the buildings, that was too dark too dark too make out in the dim light, was Sam. It was only because the dim light shone right on his face, which made him realize that it was his little brother he was staring at. The second thing he noticed was the blood, and the realization that someone had hurt Sam really bad hit him hard.

_His Sammy._

Running out of the car as fast as he possibly could, he fell to his knees in front of the younger boy.

"Sammy? Sam!"

Dean's fingers felt for a pulse, he let out the breath he was holding when he found it. It was weak, but it had a steady rhythm.

"Come on, Sammy. I need you to open your eyes for me." He tried to maneuver Sam so that his head rested against his lap, and not against a hard brick wall. "If you really think I drove all the way out here just to see you sleeping you're wrong," he tried.

Sam wasn't responding.

Just when Dean was about to cover Sam with his jacket, his heart seemed to turn cold as ice. He could feel more than see the dampness on Sam's left side, when touching it he knew it was blood. Dean now knew he had to get Sam to a hospital before he bled to death in front of him.

"God, Sammy, why didn't you tell me?" He touched Sam's cheek, shocked at the coldness of it. "I'll take care of you Sammy, don't worry."

Sam's cough made Dean pray for Sam's eyes to open.

"Dea..."

"I'm here, Sammy."

Sam grabbed his arm. "W-we h-have to f-find Mike," Sam stuttered.

Dean stopped Sam from getting up, putting a restraining arm on his hand on his chest. "We don't have to do anything except getting you to a hospital, and who the hell is Mike?"

"M-my dorm mate," Sam shuddered. "I h-have t-to f-find him."

"And where was he when you were getting your ass kicked?"

"I d-didn't s-see him D-Dean. T-they w-were m-many."

Dean noticed how Sam's grip on his arm loosened. "Well I don't really care about this Mark guy right now. We have to get you to a hospital, now."

"No."

It was barely a whisper but Dean heard it. "Are you kidding me? You need care Sam, right now."

"B-but..."

"Ok, I'll call for help about Mike, is that alright with you? Now we can go."

"N-no."

If Sam hadn't been so weak at that moment, Dean didn't know what he would have done. "Sam, we're going and that's final. I'm not gonna sit here and let you bleed to death."

Not waiting for an answer, Dean helped Sam up, who only fell heavily against him.

He ended up carrying Sam's entire weight, and then carefully putting him in the car, bending over him to fasten the seatbelt.

Dean made the call about Mike while he was driving, speaking fast while looking at his little brother who looked worse then he had done before. Giving Sam his undivided attention, he noticed how quickly Sam seemed to be fading away from him. Something that put a knife to his heart, and a fear he had never known started to take hold of him.

"Sam, I need you to stay with me," he said sharply when Sam's eye lashes was almost touching his cheeks. "Sammy, hey, you have to stay awake." Dean desperately tried to shake Sam awake, but he wasn't responding to anything he did.

Dean pushed down the accelerator even further, while trying to get a response out of the younger boy beside him. He only knew a little more than the basics in medicine, he didn't know a lot about what was happening to Sam right now, but what he did know was that Sam had to stay awake.


	3. Unreal

**A/N**: Hello to all of you wonderful people who have given me such wonderful reviews. I'm sorry it took me such a long time to get more up, I was on a writer's block. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

**HOME**

_3. Unreal_

Finding a hospital in California shouldn't be that hard, right?

Dean was certain he had passed more than a few on his way to Sam. Then how was it that now when he needed one so desperately, he couldn't find anything? It seemed like they were suddenly nowhere to be found, as if they had disappeared into the darkness claiming the night.

Dean's whole body was rigid, frustration making him want to scream out into the night. The sight of his brother, lying so still against the cool window, not responding to anything, was enough to bring tears to his eyes.

This wasn't supposed to be happening. Sam wasn't supposed to get hurt. Not like this, never like this.

But he was hurt, badly. And now he depended on Dean to get him to a hospital. If he didn't...

_No. _

It was not an option. Sam was going to be fine, as long as Dean could find a damn hospital. He'd make sure of it.

Glancing at his brother, he didn't fail to notice the unnatural paleness in his skin, now almost ghostly white against the dark window.

A fresh wave of panic came over him, almost suffocating him when he tried to get a better look at that wound. It only seemed to get worse with every minute.

_Come on,_Dean silently pleaded, needing to see that hospital in sight really soon.

"Sammy," he whispered. "I promise we'll get you help." Dean touched the back of Sam's head, unconsciously letting his fingers push through those dark curls.

To Dean, Sam had always seemed younger than he really was. If it was the four years separated them, or the fact that Sam's brown eyes every once in a while seemed to burn with innocence, he didn't know. What he did know was that it was that same innocence that was the reason for why those familiar protective instincts were on constant alert now.

When Sam had asked about Mike, Dean had felt like kicking something. There he was, his baby brother, fighting to stay awake and he just couldn't think about himself for one second. Sam wanted to save someone else at the expense of his own life.

It was just like that time when he'd run out into the streets as a 6-year-old, because he had spotted a cat and he just had to save her.

Like now, it had almost given him a heart attack. But it was also the one thing that could make him drive miles just to get to his brother, because his sensitivity mixed with that soulful innocence was something he wanted to protect forever.

-x-

_When Sam ran out into the street, Dean could almost feel that cold fist crushing his heart as a car passed by._

_"SAM!"_

_But his 6-year-old brother was sitting by the side of the road, a furry ball in his arms. He was whispering something Dean couldn't make out._

_"Are you out of your mind?" Dean screamed, dragging his brother back to safety._

_Sam hesitated. "I don't think so."_

_"You don't? Well I..."_

_"We'll get her help, won't we Dean?"_

_Dean didn't even know what he was talking about. "What?"_

_"She's hurt," Sam whispered. "I don't think she can see." Sam paused before looking up at him. "We have to save her." There was a determination there that Dean had never heard before._

_"What about you Sam?" Dean breathed, his heart still slamming painfully in his chest. "You could have gotten really hurt!"__Trying to stay mad at Sam was something he no longer found possible. He'd like to meet one person who could resist those large brown eyes shining with innocence. _

_Because he sure couldn't._

_"But I didn't." Sam looked up at his brother in wonder. "She's so little, and she's all alone."_

_"Sammy..."_

_"No," Sam said, holding the cat that seemed rather small, closer. "If I get hurt..."_

_"You'll never be alone," Dean finished for him._

_"How do you know?"_

_Dean stared into Sam's young face. "I just do."_

-x-

Having pushed down the accelerator so forcefully, Dean hadn't even noticed how far he had driven, or where they were. They just couldn't afford to get lost, not when Sam's life was currently hanging on a dangerously thin thread.

Now, in the distance he could see a sign ahead with white letters almost glowing in the dark.

_San Mateo County Medical __Center_

Thank God.

Turning to Sam, he tried to determine whether the bleeding had stopped, but to his horror he found it hadn't. As Dean pulled into the Emergency entrance, he tried to keep one hand on Sam's side, trying in vain to stop that bleeding that only seemed to go deeper.


End file.
